(the latter with half the leaves
torn out), the weary hours, as may be imagined, did _not_ fly, and we
were not sorry to set off the next day for the Dyak Pangkalan,[12] on
as wet, dreary, and uncomfortable an afternoon as it has ever been my
lot to experience in Borneo or elsewhere.

We sighted lights on the left bank about eleven o'clock the same
evening. Rain was still falling in torrents; but the noise of gongs
and drums in the distance announced that we had nearly arrived at the
end of our journey. To land, however, was easier said than done; for
the stream, swollen by the heavy rains, was running at a terrific
rate, and carried us right past the landing-stage ere our bowman could
hold on and make fast, crashing us into a large war-canoe moored just
beyond, the property of the "Orang Kaya," or head-man of the house
whither we were bound. We at length succeeded, after a deal of
trouble, in securing the sampan to the bank; and, despatching two of
our boatmen to announce our arrival to the chief, awaited the
invitation which would probably be brought back to stay the night,
this being strict etiquette in Bornean travel. During the absence of
our two messengers the yells and beating of gongs proceeding from the
house, which stood at a distance of about 300 yards from the
landing-place, proclaimed that a feast of some sort was being held;
and we were debating what substitutes for tobacco and gin (our supply
of which we had nearly exhausted) we could present our hosts with,
when our men returned. There was no feast, said they. What we heard
were the cries of the "manangs," or medicine-men, whose mode this was
of driving away the evil spirit of "char-char," or small-pox, which
had attacked nearly a third of the inmates of the dwelling. L. and I,
on hearing this, promptly deciding that mosquito bites were preferable
to small-pox, determined not to land, but to sleep in the boat. Our
cook, the Kling, who up till this had maintained a stolid silence,
now became quite excited, and joined in the conversation. There was
hardly a house on the river, said he, entirely free from this
loathsome disease; the Dyaks were flying from it in all directions,
and added that he himself was not sorry to be returning to Sadong, as
two of his own children were very ill with it, and he ought not by
rights to have left them!

This was pleasant, to say the least of it, but it was now too late to
mend matters, and wrapping ourselves in our rugs